


Obsessed

by yeaka



Category: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)
Genre: F/M, M/M, Other, POV Second Person, Vignette
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-18
Updated: 2020-01-18
Packaged: 2021-02-27 14:40:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 564
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22308808
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/yeaka/pseuds/yeaka
Summary: You get another Jerry.
Relationships: Jerry(s) (Detroit: Become Human)/Reader
Comments: 2
Kudos: 45





	Obsessed

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: I don’t own Detroit: Become Human or any of its contents, and I’m not making any money off this.

Some people collect stamps. Some people collect bottle caps. 

_You_ collect Jerrys.

It’s a more expensive hobby, yes, but it’s justified—you need employees for the Pirates’ Cove, after all, and androids are cheaper than humans. They’re more reliable, harder working, and they’re _charming_ ; the children that come to the park all squeal in delight when they see a Jerry, and the Jerrys adore that attention. They dote on guests, keep the place clean, man the rides—whatever you like. You ask a Jerry to go pick up another package, and of course he listens; he comes right back a few hours later, leading in a new android by the hand. Jerry parks that EM400 right in the middle of your office, and you instantly leave your paperwork behind. 

You stroll forward to see him: your newest acquisition, the exact same model that it always is—peach skin, red hair, green eyes. His cheeks are soft and round, his body warm and welcoming—his lips even twitch up in that telltale smile that you love so much. He’s in excellent condition, right down to a few subtle freckles on his arms. He isn’t in uniform yet, but the uniform isn’t what makes a _Jerry_. Sometimes you dress a few up differently anyway, just for fun. 

You pace slowly around the Jerry as if to inspect him, but he’s _perfect_ , just like you knew he’d be. The EM400s have never disappointed you. When you return to the front, Jerry’s eyes follow you, alive with that little spark that gets your pulse racing. You lick your lips and tell him, “EM400, register your new name.” The LED flashes blue, waiting, ready: “Jerry.”

“My name is Jerry,” he repeats. You even love his voice. It’s hard not to return his smile. 

The other Jerry, the one that brought the new one in, hovers by the door. You haven’t forgotten him and never will. Without taking your eyes away from the new one, you ask, “Jerry, what do you think?”

The EM400s are social creatures. They’re so intuitive. The new one’s LED flashes again, but he doesn’t answer—he instinctively realizes who you’re talking to. The first Jerry answers easily, “I love it.”

Of course he does. They all do. Jerrys love guests, love servitude, love rides and fun, but mostly, they love _Jerrys_. You’ve taught them well.

You reach out your hand, and the new one takes it. His skin is smooth as silk and feels so _right_ against your palm. His eyes crinkle with happiness as you give him a little squeeze and quick shake. People say androids are just _machines_ , cold and dead, but those people must be ordering the wrong models. Jerry’s vital. 

You order the older one, “Show him everything.”

“I will,” Jerry promises. He floats forward and gently extracts the new Jerry’s hand, wrapping it in his own, entwining their fingers. The new Jerry’s lips part, his eyes flickering towards that touch. Seeing them together is such a _thrill_. Jerry murmurs, “Come, Jerry.”

He nods obediently and goes, but not without a final look at you. You grin as he leaves, knowing he’ll come back whenever you call. 

When they’re gone, you move to the window of your office and look out across your park—the whirring rides, the screaming children, the sugary snacks and brightly-coloured toys—but mostly, you see _Jerry._


End file.
